Baby Makes, Uh, Three
by BonnieBun
Summary: When a small child is left at Beavis and Butthead's doorstep, Beavis decides to take it in and care for him (much to Butthead's dismay). Butthead is left completely embarrassed by his friend's behavior, which is getting wussier as the days pass. But when the baby isn't acting normal, Beavis finds himself in a situation he thought he'd never be in. Beavis and Butthead slash/yaoi.
1. I Don't Wanna Touch It

Hello! I'd like to start off by saying that this story does not fit into the rest of my B&B fanfics because it doesn't have them as brothers. In this fanfiction, they have no relation. This is mainly because I could find no other way to make them raise a baby without what happens happening. I really liked the idea of the story, though, so I wrote it anyway. :P Of course they'll be OOC at times, you can't really write a romance story with them in it without breaking character. It'll be awkward at times when they're with the baby, too.

Please be nice! Yeah, we all know that Beavis and Butthead aren't "with each other"; that is why it's a fanfiction. Don't be rude in the reviews or it will be removed. However, if the reviews are polite and civil, I will most definitely take writing tips. Note that this is my first romance fic.

Beavis and Butthead are not mine and are copyrighted by Mike Judge. Enjoy!

…

At 4 in the morning, most people in the not-so-sleepy town of Highland, Texas would be laying in their beds or be up getting ready for work at the most. Not two teenage boys whose names were wildly known in the area (which was not a good thing at all). Beavis and Butthead were wide awake, sitting on their red couch that was so old it was beginning to turn pink, their attention focused on a music video of a woman who was rather slutty, most of the shots her chest and rear. They hadn't moved from their spots since the night before.

"Hey," said the blond one- he had a face covered in freckles and big blue eyes that gave you the impression that he was innocent (when he really wasn't). "Um… Uh, like, what happened when Napoleon went to Mount Olive?"

"Don't steal my jokes." His brunet friend bluntly replied, lifting his leg up off the floor and crossing it over the other. He hadn't turned his gaze away from the television to answer Beavis. Beavis grunted in disappointment but he didn't argue, and he decided to watch the video again. Much to his dismay, it had already ended. Butthead just put his tongue in his cheek and held up the remote with his thumb floating over a button in preparation to change the channel in case the next video sucked. But right as the next one was going to come on, there was a knock at the door. Both boys glanced over at the door in sync.

"Not it." Beavis blurted with a laugh, leading Butthead to groan and lift himself off the couch, nearly falling over due to the fact that he hadn't stood in hours.

"Who the hell is even up?" Butthead complained, heading toward the door that was across the room.

"I dunno. It's probably Todd or something."

"Oh yeah. That'd be cool."

Beavis watched the TV for a couple seconds before his concentration was broken by Butthead's "Uhhhhhh"-ing.

"What? Is it Todd?" Beavis stood up, leaning over to try and see past Butthead's frame to the outside, which was lit by the dim rising sun.

"No." Butthead said, taking a step back and crossing his arms. "I don't wanna touch it."

"Dammit, Butthead, what is it?" Beavis walked over to the door, giving his friend a slight shove to get a good view of what the thing is. He clicked his tongue when he realized what is was. "Oh, for cripes sake, it's just a baby." He knelt down and scooped his hand under a small child that was wrapped in a light blue blanket that was just lying there in front of the door with no note or anything. He awkwardly shifted his arms a couple times before complying to hold the infant against his shoulder.

"Yeah. Exactly." Butthead put his tongue in his cheek again and popped his knee, his hands on his hips with an eyebrow raised. "What the hell was it there for?"

"I dunno. Doorstepped, I guess." Beavis shrugged, staring his friend right in the eye, nervous at the fact that the bundle he was holding was not a sack of flour and could indeed die if he dropped it. Some strange part of him that he didn't know existed got really disturbed at that and made him move to the couch.

"Uh, what are you doing, butthole?" Butthead frowned, still standing by the open door. "You obviously can't keep it; are you insane?"

Beavis was silent for a couple of seconds, aside from the grunting laughter he always made. "Why not?" he finally asked.

"You have no idea how to take care of it!" Butthead threw his arms up in frustration. "You're only 16, how the hell are you gonna take care of it? You can barely take care of yourself!"

"The same way the teen moms do it on MTV." For some odd reason, he found himself attached to the thing already. Stop being such a softie, he told himself. You're being a buttknocker, knock it off.

"Well- they have no idea what they're doing! Can't you like, tell that their kids are gonna be dys… dys… … messed up when they're older?" Butthead grit his teeth and crossed his arms again. "You're taking it somewhere else. You can't keep it here."

"Aw, but c'mon, Butthead, it'll be fun!" Beavis begged, moving the kid from his shoulder to his arms. The thing was still sleeping besides the duo's arguing. "How cool would that be to say you have a son? Or daughter? Or whatever?" He realized he didn't know what its gender was. He noted to check later, because he absolutely was not leaving the child at another doorstep. It wasn't gonna be a chain reaction with the poor thing hopping from home to home with no permanent place.

Butthead became flustered, giving Beavis a fake, agitated smile. "Ohhhhhhh no, there's no "we" in this! I'm not gonna care for it, this is all you!"

"So we can keep it?" Beavis yelled excitedly, waking up the infant, who then began to cry. Beavis's mouth twitched into a quick frown that he hoped Butthead didn't catch, but of course he did.

"No. Come on, we'll just leave it at Anderson's or something." Butthead walked over to Beavis and went to tug on his arm, but Beavis turned his back to him and hugged the crying baby into his chest.

"But it doesn't have a home!" He turned his head and made his eyes all big, which he had a tendency of doing when he wanted things his way. "You know what it's like to be an orphan! Do you really wanna put the thing through all that stuff? It's bad enough he can't be with his real mom anyway…"

Butthead swallowed and made this growling noise in his throat. He glared at Beavis, who still kept the stare strong. Finally, Butthead blew out a sigh, pointing a finger at the kid's red tear-streaked face.

"Shut it up." He said, coasting over to the door to close it.

"We're keeping it?" Beavis beamed. His routine laughing sounded less like his usual grunts and more like an actual laugh.

"Shut it up, bunghole," Butthead said again, sitting back down. He nonchalantly cast a glance down at the kid, who was still bawling its eyes out with his fingers curled. Beavis smirked at his friend, who knew damn well he was being looked at while he tried his best to keep his attention on the TV.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Your baby's upset, make it happy or something." Butthead leant back and changed the channel. Beavis realized that for once the brunet was right and held the child about a foot outwards from him to get a better look at it.

The thing must not have been more than a week old, small and lightweight. It had what appeared to be curly brown hair and gray eyes, and held its arms close to its chest. Beavis set it in his lap but still kept his hands under its arms and gave a nervous chuckle.

"I uh, I like, don't know what's wrong with it."

"Uh huh, exactly."

"No, I mean- there's obviously a few things it could be. It could be hungry, it could be tired, it could've pissed itself; I don't know what it is! Do we even have the things to help it?"

"No, we don't. That's what I mean, Beavis, you can't raise a baby, I'm sorry, but you're probably gonna kill it."

Beavis flared up and hugged the thing again, its crying still going strong. "I won't kill it! Why would you say that, Butthead?"

"Uh, because we failed the flour baby project."

"The only reason we failed that project is because you drowned it! I let you have it, and for less than a minute, too, and you drowned it. That was your fault!"

"You shouldn't have given it to me."

One of Beavis's rats crawled up to his foot and walked over it to signal that he wanted to be picked up. He was one of the babies that were born in the Burger World joint. The rat that asked for attention was named Horatio, and his mother, Honey, was about the size of a small dog. It made sense, because all they were fed with was nachos (and hey, they were fine with that). All eleven of the rats had names that began with H's.

"Not now, Horatio," Beavis said softly, shaking his foot a little to get the rat off. Horatio chattered his teeth in disappointment and fled to the kitchen. Beavis shifted the infant from his lap into the crook of his left arm again, holding his elbow up so that the kid's head was propped.

"…Butthead."

"For the love of- what, Beavis?"

"What time does MaxiMart open?"

Butthead looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Uhhhhh, ten, I think."

"How much money do we have?"

"We can go and buy diapers and crap for this thing when it opens. For now you're just gonna have to 'supervise', or something."

Beavis nodded, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smile, looking down at the baby. Then he remembered that he still had no idea what gender it was.

He left the living room, leaving Butthead there, and went to the bathroom cabinets with the kid still in his arms. Scavenging around the mess that somebody seriously needed to clean up, he found a rag that was beat up and seldom used. Carefully easing the infant onto the floor, he laid out the rag and set the kid on top of it. He sat upright, not sure what to do next. He saw mothers change the diapers of babies on TV all the time, so his best bet would be to imitate what they did.

The baby wasn't wrapped in the blanket it came with anymore and its face was beet red from the crying it was doing. A white cloth was pinned to him, which was kinda confusing being as the people on TV always had Velcro diapers, but whatever. He managed to get the pin off after struggling with it for about two minutes, and the cloth unfolded itself.

Of course, Beavis laughed at the baby's genitalia, which was of the male kind.

"Hey Butthead," Beavis called out, still laughing, "It has a schlong."

"Great." Butthead replied sarcastically, his voice quiet since he spoke at room level and was all the way downstairs.

The kid wasn't dirty or anything, so Beavis awkwardly patted him – unsure of what else to do – and then sat there staring at the rag and the baby. He called for Butthead again.

"What?" Butthead spat from downstairs. He muted the TV to hear the blond better.

"Come up here."

"No." The TV was unmuted.

Beavis frowned at Butthead's ignorance toward the whole situation and basically bunched up the rag so it protected the boy's front and back and pinned it at random, hurrying up and wrapping him back up in the blanket so the rag wouldn't undo itself.

The baby wasn't crying anymore (which didn't make sense because it didn't soil itself) but instead was staring right at Beavis, his tiny fingers still curled. His eyes were wide with wonder.

"Hey," Beavis said to the boy, who still looked him over, "How's it going?"

Just then, a rat waddled across the bathroom floor, it being way too overweight and large for its kind. It came over to Beavis and licked his elbow before turning to look at the boy, who was now looking at it.

"Hi, Honey," Beavis greeted, rubbing the giant rat behind her ears much to her delight, "This is…" He frowned. The boy didn't have a name. He decided to introduce the boy to the rat instead.

"This is Honey. She's my pet rat." The boy still stared at the animal in wonder, who sniffed his face in curiosity. Honey's whiskers tickled his face and he giggled, squinting his eyes in happiness. "I have a lot of rats, but this one was my very first one." The rat licked the boy's cheek, making him laugh harder. Beavis just watched as the boy whooped at the rat's kisses that it kept giving him. Honey had to have realized that the baby liked what she was doing, right? After all, she had ten babies of her own.

Honey scurried out of the bathroom and the boy's laughing subsided, so Beavis went back downstairs.

"The baby doesn't have a name," Beavis hugged the boy close while Butthead groaned at him for some reason. His eyebrow twitched in what he assumed was anger but he continued anyway. "What should we name him? Obviously we aren't gonna name him something like our names. Our parents just didn't care, did they?" Beavis was making himself laugh. Having the boy around was really lightening his mood and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because of when he was secretly disappointed that he wasn't pregnant all those years ago when he was really just constipated. Babies were fun, dammit, and he wanted one.

"Quit saying 'we'." Butthead scowled, changing the channel again. "I told you a million times, this is all you. You wanna be a wuss and act like a lady and mother this thing, you go ahead and be my guest. I'm not helping you at all."

Somewhere in his chest, Beavis felt this slight crack. He didn't know what it meant and where it came from, but it left him feeling somewhat hurt. But, it was so deep that he was able to push it aside. "At least help me come up with a name…" he pleaded.

Butthead sighed and shook his head, his braces glinting off the light from the TV. "Um… what were you thinking?"

"I don't know. I didn't really have any names in mind, that's why I was asking you."

Butthead tapped his fingertips against his thigh in thought. "How about Flint or some shit?" he finally suggested.

Beavis lit up. The boy looked like he could be a Flint, with the perfect curls in his brown hair and his smiling gray eyes. "Okay then." He tried to shrug off his excitement, although he assumed it was probably impossible. He held the baby up to look him right in the eyes. Of course, his fingers were curled. "From now on, your name is Flint!" Flint squealed, kicking his legs in laughter. A smile quickly spread across Beavis's face as he hugged the child close.

Butthead just watched the TV, blocking out the whole thing. Beavis was a wuss.

…

It didn't take very long for Flint to fall asleep in Beavis's arms, with Beavis falling asleep shortly thereafter. He was sunken into the couch with his back almost completely on the cushion. Flint's blanket had unraveled and was now covering his back and a part of Beavis's stomach, which is what he was laying on. Butthead was still sitting there watching TV, now able to look at the baby for a long period of time without getting teased for it by Beavis. He was confused as to how Flint could imprint on the blond so quickly, and why, out of all people, a distressed mother would doorstep a baby to them, or why Beavis just totally completely switched faces and was acting awfully motherly and girly.

He stared at the two sleeping boys, taking note of the way their breathing was in sync and how peaceful they both looked. Butthead suddenly felt his face grow hot and he turned away, putting a hand to his cheek. Bashfully, he lifted up the remote and turned the volume up a couple notches. Nope, he wasn't gonna help them at all.

...

**Hi! This is the end of the first chapter, which you already knew, but I just wanted to point that out to save the confusion of thinking that the story was over (which it indeed is not; there will be five chapters). I've noticed that this is just raking in views, so I'd like to say first off thanks so much! :D and then that I would really appreciate it if you guys left reviews! I hadn't expected this to be so popular!**

**Thank you guys, and enjoy the rest of the story!**


	2. The First Strange Nighttime Occurrence

Butthead remained outside while Beavis wandered around the MaxiMart, picking things up that he figured Flint would need. Of course, the child was in his arms, which is where he was ever since he was abandoned. Butthead closely loitered against the side of the ice machine, searing with embarrassment over the whole thing. It wasn't like he could be all, "Oh, him? I don't know him. I don't know why he's holding a baby who is this boy and why is he next to me I should call the cops," because everybody knew that the two were best of friends. One was not themselves without the other and it was rare to see them not side by side. Butthead impatiently stuck his hand under the ice machine while he was waiting and smirked with satisfaction after he found a dime and an old baseball card. That could be worth a lot; he'd have to look into it.

Beavis walked out with his arms full of bags (plus the baby, of course), and Butthead turned really sour again, glancing around to see if he knew anybody. Thankfully, their only audience were a couple old ladies chatting as they walked toward the store, and they weren't paying any attention to the two friends.

"The lady at the counter said that we'll have to feed him about ten times a day." He sat down on the curb like they always did, plopping all of the bags next to him. Placing Flint in his lap, he began to scavenge inside one of them. "I also bought a couple books on stuff—"

"—Wow, really? You, read a book?" Butthead was genuinely surprised.

"Yeah. Sucks I don't know how to read though." Beavis withdrew two tiny bottle-type things with straws on them, tape, and what appeared to be a thing of formula. Butthead wanted to crawl out of his skin; Beavis was _not _acting normal at all and it really bothered him. He wanted nothing more than to return to how they were a day before, burning shit and painting cats and blasting rock music.

"Uhhhhh…" Butthead pointed to the stuff that his friend had pulled out. "Did you know to get all that stuff yourself…?"

"No, some lady helped me." He held up the formula container. "They also heated this up for me. The poor thing hasn't eaten since God knows when, he's probably starving."

"So am I," Butthead mumbled under his breath, clutching his stomach. He would've liked nachos, but Beavis spent literally every penny they had left on the baby, so stale tortilla chips and soda from home would have to do.

He stopped caring about his hunger when Beavis filled one of the bottles up, but then went and filled the other one up as well.

"Wait… you're not-!" Butthead panicked, putting two and two together.

"Shut up." Beavis flatly said, ripping off a big piece of tape and holding the roll in his mouth with his teeth.

"Nuh uh. This isn't happening." Butthead shook his head in disbelief, but his eyes were proving his suspicions right. The blond taped one of the bottles to the left side of his chest and ripped off another piece of tape.

"Beavis, what the hell-!" Butthead's voice was hoarse from shock at what his friend was about to do. He sunk down onto his knees and ran his fingers through his hair. There were spots on his vision. Never had Beavis embarrassed him this bad.

The blond taped the other bottle onto his chest and tried to hold Flint up to the left one without having him in an awkward position. Eventually, the child was comfortable and sucked on the straw.

"No." Butthead grimaced, hunching over and pressing his forehead against the concrete.

"You know, I really don't know why I taped the other bottle to my chest," Beavis admitted, laughing as if what he was doing was normal and happened on a daily basis, "I'm probably not gonna use it right now." Even though he was only a week old, Flint knew how to suck on a straw and was managing to fill himself up, his eyelids fluttering sleepily. "This is pretty funny!" Beavis grunted with laughter.

"I could kill you right now, Beavis. I could literally kill you."

"He won't need one of those pacifier things until he's at least a month old."

"I could rip that sign out of the ground and beat you with it."

"Hey, I just remembered: isn't my crib from when I was little still in the basement? We could use that!"

"You know what?" Butthead stood up, brushing his shorts off. "I'm just gonna go home. I'll see you there." He stepped off of the curb and started to walk across the parking lot.

"What? Why?"

Butthead reeled around, glaring at Beavis. "I don't know. Why don't you figure that out?"

Beavis frowned and adjusted Flint. He had to agree with him though, what he was doing wasn't exactly… a _normal _thing to do. He set the child on his lap again and removed the bottles, immediately going inside and buying normal bottles. He was gonna get Butthead attached to the baby one way or another.

…

Hesitantly kissing the child's forehead, Beavis set Flint down inside his old crib, which he had to lug upstairs by himself. Since Butthead was being stubborn, he had to leave the baby by Honey, whom he trusted almost fully with him since she was extremely friendly and loving, but there was one part of him that was terrified that something was going to happen to Flint. His fears weren't made a reality, though, because when he went to get the child, he was nestled into Honey's fur. Beavis loved his rat.

Part of him wanted to cover Flint up with the blanket, but he remembered from way back when – when he still lived with his parents – his mother saying something about a friend of hers losing her baby because she accidentally suffocated. Just the thought freaked him out, so he tossed the blanket on a spare dresser that was sitting in the room. Flint's room was actually an extra room that their house had that they kept random stuff in. It was rather messy, which was probably a safety hazard. He noted that he was gonna have to clean it sometime that week.

Backing up slowly, he smiled at what he now figured he could call his son, leaving him there. He turned around and went to walk out the door, but nearly tripped when a rat scurried out from under some junk and crossed his footpath. He whirled around to see who it was.

"Henrietta!" he hissed, scooping up the rat, who had stopped running to see if her master was okay. She squirmed in his hand, but he scratched behind her ears and she calmed down. "Be careful, okay? Things aren't gonna be like they usually are anymore." He set her down and she sprinted back into the junk, probably to search for one of her brothers and sisters.

Trying to make things as normal as possible, Beavis sat in his respected place on the couch, his trademark laugh escaping his lips.

"So like, is Jersey Shore on? It hasn't been on in a while. Was it canceled?"

Butthead shrugged, his tongue in his cheek. He did that a lot. It had a tendency to always make him look angry whether he was or not, and his squinty brown eyes didn't really make him look like a friendly person. "Uhhhhh, I think it was canceled, actually. Sucks."

They sat there for a couple hours in silence, deciding to just watch the TV rather than talking each other. Beavis was actually drifting off to sleep over the sound of the TV's noise, but right as he was going to fall asleep, Flint started wailing upstairs. The piercing cry made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he had to try really hard not to get off the couch to help the child, but he managed.

"Why don't you go see what's wrong?" Beavis suggested to Butthead, who snorted and shook his head.

"Nope," Butthead gave him a sly grin, his facial expression showing that he was just about done with Beavis's crap, "I told you I wasn't gonna help you."

Beavis sulked. "At least give him a bottle. Give the kid a chance." Butthead refused, so Beavis eventually got up and went to Flint, who had just been cold. He sank down on the floor and leant against the wall, holding the baby close. The child gripped his mother's finger, taking in his scent. Beavis had given up that whole "breastfeeding" idea that he had hours before, finding it ridiculous. On the bright side, they now had to extra cups with straws to use.

After Flint had fallen asleep again, Beavis kissed his cheek – less hesitant this time – and put him back, closing the door behind him. This time, he didn't go downstairs. He went to his room, shoveling a bunch of random items off of his quilt and getting under the covers. Being as Flint was around, he was gonna have to cherish sleep and do it as often as possible. His eyelids shut, Beavis sighed and pulled the covers to his ears. He had a lot to do in the morning.

…

His theory on sleep was proven correct when he awoke in the middle of the night to Flint's sobbing. Beavis laid there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, trying to gather a little bit of strength to get up. Once he had, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and bent his knees to stand up. Except once he was up, the crying had subsided. He was confused as to why, but he tried not to question it. Plopping right back into bed, he drifted off in no time.


	3. Unpredictable

The next morning, Beavis woke up with no help from Flint. Thank god that little frame of time around two am was the only time he had cried. Hopefully that was a good thing.

Running his fingers through his hair, Beavis forced himself to get up (because if he didn't, he would just lay in bed all day like the lazy ass he was) and went out into the hallway. Butthead's bedroom door was open, which was odd since Butthead slept downstairs and kept his door closed because he didn't want any of the rats in his room. His bare feet made shuffling noises as his heels dragged across the carpet, the friction making the bottoms of them warm. He carefully and quietly twisted the knob of Flint's door, opening it just wide enough for his skinny frame to slip through.

Beavis's steps were extremely light as he silently inched across the room, maneuvering through the junk he had to clean, all the way to where Flint was sleeping. Beavis felt this extreme feeling of complete terror fire through his chest when nothing on Flint was moving as he laid there. But after a few seconds of panic, Flint's back slowly dropped and rose again, signaling that the tiny human was indeed breathing.

He breathed a sigh of relief and exited the baby's room, closing the door behind him. Butthead was already downstairs, slumped on the couch with this look of anger spread across his face. Beavis could've sworn he felt a vein somewhere on his forehead bulge momentarily at the thought that he was gonna have to deal with Butthead's stubborn ass the entire day. You don't wanna help take care of a baby? Fine, but there was no need to be a bunghole about it.

Butthead looked up from the television for a couple seconds to look at Beavis, before picking up the remote that was laying in Beavis's spot and changing the channel. "Hey." He said.

"Hi,"" Beavis replied, his eyebrow raised. Butthead was still wearing his favorite red shorts, but he was wearing this old, washed out black GWAR shirt that was riddled with tiny holes. The lettering on the front was peeling off after years of wear.

"Um, like, what happened to your AC/DC shirt?" Beavis asked, sitting next to his companion. Butthead's eyebrows pinched together like they did when he was about to go on a rant and Beavis shifted his body so he could turn and look the brunet in the eye during the whole thing.

"Well, Hailey thought it would be a fun idea to crawl on my chest while I was sleeping and piss all over me." Butthead remarked, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his gaze locked on the TV. "I woke up after my chest was all warm and stuff and saw her running into the kitchen. I had to go upstairs and get this shirt instead." His normal chuckling was quiet and low to signal his anger toward the rat. Beavis took note at the fact that he hadn't blinked a single time during the entire conversation and didn't look at Beavis once. He was lying about something.

Beavis opened his mouth to confront him about it, his eyebrows pinched as well, but Flint's sudden wailing from upstairs cut him short and overpowered the sound of the TV. Butthead muttered something to himself as he pressed the volume button a few times to mask the baby's crying. Beavis glared at him for a couple of seconds in disgust before turning around and sticking a bottle in the microwave (which they needed a new one of; theirs was just about as old as them and he wouldn't want it to die when Flint was hungry one day). While that was heating up, he ran upstairs to get Flint out of his crib.

Upon seeing Beavis, the child attempted to reach his chubby arms up to get his mom to hold him, blubbering in tears. The blond scooped him up and held him close. The baby's crying continued even after Beavis took him, which made Beavis anticipate the beeping of the microwave even more.

Yesterday, he had bought the Velcro diapers that you always saw in commercials (which were expensive as _hell_, holy shit) and set up this little station in Flint's room on the spare dresser that he could change the kid on.

He always felt bad whenever he had to change Flint because he imagined that the child probably didn't like to be touched "there", but chances were when the boy grew older his opinions on that would change and be quite the opposite. But for the time being, Beavis felt empathy for the kid because he didn't like to be touched either. _Especially _after Mistress Koura Anthrax and the old guidance counselor, Rick.

Horatio and Hayes scurried into the room side by side, both rats running to Beavis's ankles and pawing at them. The blond scooped Flint up – who was no longer wailing but was still whining – and twisted his spine, looking down behind him.

"Uhhh… what?" Beavis asked, and as if they understood him, the two ran toward the door but turned around, looking back at their master.

"Are you hungry? Is that it?" He awaited a response from the rats as Flint reached up at his face and held his hand at the part where his neck met his chin. The baby's wide gray eyes were glassy with tears. Beavis then realized that the rats had a limited set of words they knew, so he was gonna have to rephrase stuff. "Food?"

Almost immediately the rats exploded out of the door like firecrackers, racing downstairs to the kitchen where their nacho tray sat on the floor. Beavis adjusted Flint on his shoulder and followed the rats, who had apparently assembled with the other nine of them, and they all looked up in unison at Beavis with sweet eyes as they all waited for him to give them more nachos.

Normally, whenever he and Butthead got nachos, they got two extra trays so they could bring it home for the rats. The rats must've assumed that since they had went to the MaxiMart the night before, their nachos would've been ready. Beavis felt his heart fall. Except there _were _no nachos. He had spent all the money they had on things for the baby.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Money. With Flint around, how was Beavis gonna work at Burger World if he had to take care of Flint?

He wouldn't be able to, that's how. He'd have to quit.

But if only Butthead was earning money, how were they going to be able to survive on $150 a week? (With his job as the fry cook Beavis earned $120, meaning they usually got… $270 a week, but they blew most of it on porn magazines half the time.) Now that Flint was there, they were really screwed. Not that Flint was a bad thing, it was just that it was nearly impossible to survive when you only got 150 as a weekly income and had to buy diapers, formula, toys, clothes, and all that stuff _plus _food for two people with adult-sized appetites.

They might be alright, though, if Butthead received a raise.

Beavis's thoughts dissolved when frantic beeping interrupted him. He widened his eyes and shook his head a couple times to bring him back into reality, and he floated over to the microwave. That was the most brain activity he ever had in months. The bottle was comfortably warm in his hand, he noted, as he shut the microwave door with his hips since his hands were full. The rats had turned around to stare at him, as they still were waiting for food. But so was Flint.

Beavis went into the living room and sat next to Butthead, adjusting the baby in his arms. He tried to ignore the frustrated squeak of eleven hungry rats in the next room over.

"Butthead." Beavis urgently said, getting the brunet's attention. Butthead turned his head a little, his tongue in his cheek, and raised his eyebrows to show that he was listening.

"Please hold Flint for a minute while I feed the rats—"

"—Hell no! Dammit, Beavis, for the last time, I told you—"

"—_G*ddammit, Butthead!_" Beavis cried out in frustration, his face flushing with irritation. It caught both Butthead and Flint off guard, the latter flinching and beginning to howl in fear, while Butthead just stared with his squinty eyes a tad wider than usual. "_I'm not doing this by myself! I am sick and tired of you being such a buttknocker all the time! You should be ashamed at the fact that you refuse to take a crying baby and help it, you—YOU—"_

"—Fine, Beavis, I'll take him!" Butthead snapped, holding out his hands to take the child. Flint squirmed as he was transferred from one boy to the other, still crying his eyes out. Beavis was breathing heavily as he recovered from going off, but was calming himself after Butthead had actually taken the kid. The brunet looked uncomfortable with the child in his arms, but Flint rested comfortably against Butthead's shoulder.

"You know, you're gonna have to hold him differently if you're gonna feed him." Beavis mumbled. Butthead just looked at Beavis a couple of seconds – who proceeded his usual laughter, yet it sounded slightly aggravated – before looking down at Flint and reaching under only one of his arms. "No, not like that!" Beavis cried, picking Flint up the right way and resting him in Butthead's left arm, making sure his head was propped up.

He left the room, going back into the kitchen where the rats were squirming impatiently, some chattering at each other, some crawling around in the empty nacho tray. Beavis picked up the rats that were in the tray with one hand and placed them on the kitchen tile before going over to the bag of tortilla chips that were sitting on the counter. The rats that were scooped up had nacho cheese on their gray coats, while their brothers and sisters hungrily licked at their fur. Honey, however, ignored her kids and waddled over next to Beavis, rubbing her side on his ankle.

Beavis poured the rest of the bag into the empty tray and all of them excitedly ran over to the food, each breaking off a piece of the same chip. However, the chips must've been stale, because they all angrily dropped their pieces and chattered aggravatingly at Beavis.

"Sorry, guys, but that's gonna have to work." Beavis shrugged before going back to the living room. Butthead was looking down at Flint, holding the bottle and murmuring something, while the baby's eyelids fluttered tiredly and held his hands on Butthead's fingers. Except as soon as Beavis saw that, the rats screeched loudly behind him and he whirled around and looked at them. "Just eat it!" he snapped at them, who all hissed at him. Even Honey, who was normally very sweet and kind toward Beavis. She seemed to be getting wider; hopefully she wasn't pregnant again.

The blond went back in the living room but was met with disappointment. What he had seen before must've been him just seeing things, because Flint was wide awake in Butthead's arms, who was watching TV and not even paying attention to the baby.

Beavis didn't ask for Flint back. Instead, he smirked at Butthead before leaning back on the couch with crossed arms. Eventually, Flint stopped sucking on the bottle and looked around the room contently, taking in his surroundings. Butthead still held the bottle in front of his mouth, though, occasionally poking his lips with the nipple (huh huh huh huh!) of it to try and get Flint to start eating again. He turned his head with a frustrated grunt, clearly not hungry.

"He doesn't want it anymore." Beavis said, Butthead's brown eyes flicking up to look at him.

"Uhhhhhh, okay." Butthead replied, tossing the bottle on the floor (which made Beavis's eye twitch) and awkwardly trying to place his hands under Flint's arms like Beavis had shown him how to minutes before, handing the baby to Beavis.

"Um, you don't have to give him back to me," Beavis nervously grunted, scooching away from Butthead. Butthead didn't seem amused.

"I have school, bunglick, take him back." Butthead stretched out his arms farther so Flint was right in front of Beavis's face, who had to comply to take his baby back so he had breathing space. He blinked a few times while the brunet stood up, stretched, and made his way toward the front door.

"Wait," Beavis called out, standing up, and Butthead turned to look at him.

"What, Beavis?"

Beavis scooped up the bottle that was on the floor, and scurried upstairs to grab a blanket and a couple diapers. "I'm coming with you!" He called, still in Flint's room.

"Uh, no you're not!" Butthead growled, swinging the door open. Half his body was out of it when Beavis reappeared in the doorway.

"Huh? Why not?" Beavis looked genuinely confused, the child wrapped in one of Beavis's old blue blankets from when he was little.

"Because. You have, that, uh, thing to take care of." Butthead pointed at Flint before hurrying out the door, slamming it behind him so Beavis got the idea. He rushed down the lawn and ran to the end of the sidewalk, where they usually waited for the bus. He enjoyed the fresh air and the silence, away from the chaos that was only a couple houses away from him. Butthead was convinced he was alone and ran his tongue over his braces as a way of recollection, but he grew disgusted when he heard panting behind him.

He turned around only to see Beavis rushing toward him with Flint laughing his little head off, enjoying how he bounced with each step his mom took.

"I can just bring him with me and stuff." Beavis smiled, grunting happily. Flint let out a screech of happiness and clutched the blanket with joy, his cheeky face practically hiding his eyes. Butthead just rolled his and crossed his arms, waiting for the bus to come.

When it eventually did roll around, the brunet cringed at all of the wide-eyed faces and open mouths that were peeking out of every window. A couple of kids toward the middle began to point and laugh at them. The tips of Butthead's ears burned. They were being made fun of. As soon as Beavis would put that baby down he was gonna kick his ass so hard his foot would come out his mouth.

The fat lady that drove the bus opened the doors and Butthead whisked himself on, leaving Beavis stunned. The blond went to get on, holding the child tight, but the driver closed the doors a little and Beavis smacked his nose on the glass. Flint became flustered at the sudden stop but didn't cry.

"You can't bring that on the bus," The driver grunted with a thick Southern accent.

"Um, heh heh," Beavis rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand, "Why not?"

"You just can't." The lady didn't have an ounce of class in her and was digging and biting at her fingernails. Beavis looked through the small crack between the two doors at Butthead, who was staring at him.

"Butthead," he croaked, "Come on. Let's just walk."

"_You _can," Butthead's laugh was much louder, "I'm taking the bus."

"But we do everything together!"

"That was until you decided to bring that thing into it, or something. Just stay home." Butthead shrugged, turning his back on the door yet keeping an eye on the blond. "Later, dude." And with that, he walked to the back of the bus, the lady shut the doors completely, and the bus drove off. Beavis looked at the window that he and Butthead were normally in, but the brunet wasn't even looking at him. He had his back pressed against the glass and was running his fingers through his hair. The blond did nothing but watch as the bus drove away without him.

He was then full of rage.

He _was _going to school, no matter what that assmonkey said. And he was bringing Flint with him.

…

Butthead, for once, was actually glad that he was at school. The quiet humming of the class's conversations was relaxing compared to the annoying nagging of Beavis and the constant crying of Flint. The room smelled like Van Dreissen's coffee and the rainy weather outside made the room a comfortable level of darkness. The bell rang and the announcements came on, and they all stood to say the Pledge (which Butthead just kinda mumbled nonsense since he didn't know the words). McVicker's shaky voice then read off a list of announcements along the lines of sports winnings, upcoming events, and charities. There were a numerable amount of pauses where McVicker stopped to guzzle from his bottle of whiskey that he kept hidden in his desk drawer – which wasn't really hidden anyway, since everybody knew it was there.

The desk next to him was almost ghostly, the idea of the blond at home foreign and out of place, but Butthead welcomed it anyway because a little peace every once and a while never hurt anybody. Van Dreissen then made the famous entrance he always made which was walking through the classroom door as soon as the announcements were over with this cheerful smile on his face, saying good morning to the class, picking up a piece of chalk and stating, "Let's begin, m'kay?"

Butthead's laughing soon faded into his way of breathing like always as he began to daydream, his eyes focusing on the clock and his mind just thinking about random stuff. _Uh huh huh huh, Kimberly's clothes are fitting her awfully tight today, huh huh huh huh huh huh huh… and is she wearing a bra? I don't think so. Wait until she turns around again… maybe if you look close enough, you can see her—_

His thoughts froze as he noticed that Daria was turned around in her chair in front of him and was staring at him. Butthead shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked.

"What?"

"What? I'm lost, what?"

"Where's Beavis?" Daria looked back at the board to see if Van Dreissen had noticed they were talking, but he was still writing on the chalkboard, rambling on about homophones and homonyms and homophobes, or something.

"He's uh," Butthead's Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, preparing to lie, "He's sick."

Daria's eyebrows pinched in the same way that he and Beavis's always did. "Really? I thought you guys always came to school if you were sick or not."

Butthead shrugged.

Daria adjusted her glasses. "You two are completely unpredictable." Her voice was monotone and honest. With that, she turned around right when Van Dreissen did, facing the class this time.

"Did I just hear talking?" he said quietly, scoping the class. Somebody toward the middle of the seating said no and Van Dreissen nodded. "You know, class, you guys are capable of so much, but your capabilities can be limited if you're subject to talking while you're supposed to be learning, m'kay?" He frowned. "You guys know better." He turned back to the board and began to talk again, but he stopped when Beavis walked through the door and shuffled over to his seat, Flint in his arms. Butthead put his arms on his desk and hid his face.

"Beavis, what exactly are you doing?" Van Dreissen sounded sounded somewhat irritated now, setting his chalk down and placing a hand on his hip. Beavis sat in his seat and rested the baby in his lap, acting like what was happening was normal.

"Just taking my seat, sir." Beavis laughed, the entire class's eyes on him. Flint looked at all of them in curiosity, never seeing these faces before. Butthead wanted to crawl out of his skin in embarrassment.

"Why is there an infant in your lap?"

"This is our, um, son, heh heh."

Van Dreissen looked as if he were just hit in the stomach with a ton of bricks. "Beavis, I wasn't aware that you had a girlfriend." Butthead lifted his head a little to look at the class and about half of them had their phones out and were videoing the entire thing. He groaned and threw his face in his arms again. He could just see the whole thing going viral now: "Teenage Boy Tries to Convince Teacher Child Is His While Boy next To Him Knows He's Insane".

"I don't." Beavis smiled. Butthead could hear Daria chuckling at the idiocy in front of her.

"Then… what do you mean, 'our' baby? There has to be somebody else."

Butthead's heart began to bang against his ribs.

Beavis nodded and gestured next to him. "Butthead!"

"_What?!_" Butthead hissed, shooting his head up and instinctively grabbing Beavis's collar. "_You're fucking crazy, Beavis, I'm gonna kick your ass!_" He tugged hard on his shirt, which was beginning to choke him, and Flint's lower lip began to quiver as he started to whimper.

"My point is proven." Daria smirked at Butthead, who was caught up in this extreme rush of adrenaline. He needed to kick Beavis's ass. It was originally gonna wait until after school, but he needed to do it now.

Except… Flint was screaming, blubbering with tears, as if he were begging Butthead to stop. Hesitantly, Butthead loosened his grip on Beavis, who then received more air in a huge gulp and reached up and ripped at Butthead's hands.

"Get your hands offa me, asswipe! Don't touch me!" Beavis swatted at him, turning his back to Butthead and holding Flint close, trying to calm the upset child down. Murmurs of confused and mocking conversation riddled the classroom. Van Dreissen walked to the back of the room where they were and grabbed both of their arms lightly.

"I think you two need to visit Principal McVicker's class, m'kay? Settle this in front of him." Butthead gladly stood up and fumed at Beavis, storming out while Beavis flipped his hair out of his eye, tightly held Flint against his chest (who had calmed down almost completely) and strutted into the hallway. There were a few moments of silence that the teacher and class used to recollect their thoughts and grasp the events of the past minute, but the silence was shattered when loud, furious bickering echoed throughout the hall. Van Dreissen mumbled something like, "Oh my" before rushing out the door after the two. The classroom was silent again, only this time when it was broken, it was Daria that spoke.

"Okay, those of you who have no idea what the hell just happened, raise your hands."

The entire class held up a hand.

…

By the end of the night, Beavis was a dropout and Butthead had two weeks of detention to serve.

Beavis had been so frustrated with the brunet that he had completely forgotten to ask him to ask the Burger World manager for a raise. After being sent home by McVicker, Beavis had grabbed a couple bottles from downstairs and locked himself in Flint's room, holding the child the entire night.

After spending about a half hour up there, Beavis began to squirm in boredom. The kid wasn't bored- in fact, he was far from bored, because one of the rats (Heath) had wanted to be in there with them and enjoyed running back and forth to make Flint try to catch him. Of course, he was only playing with the child; he wasn't teasing. Beavis in the meantime sat on the floor with the boy in his lap while he daydreamt of blaring Slayer while setting trees on fire, much to the delight of naked chicks that were cheering all around him.

Even though it truthfully would've never been a reality anyway, it for sure was impossible now to live that dream with Flint around. How could you strut around with a cigarette in your mouth and be a badass when you had a crying baby in your arms, demanding that you take care of it and love it? You couldn't. Fuck.

But deep down, a feeling began to spread in Beavis's chest like ice. He didn't mind that he couldn't do a lot of things because Flint was around. The child was a big ball of love and if he raised him the right way, he had the potential to be really mannerly and kind. Not only that, but he was already attached to him something terrible. Beavis didn't think he'd be able to doorstep the baby again or give him to an orphanage without having the boy pried out of his arms. Flint had already gotten attached to him, too. Beavis remembered earlier in class when Butthead grabbed him how Flint had gotten really upset. He stroked the child's head - who was still playing with Health – deep in thought. He had hoped that he could continue with how his life was before (such as going to school or working) with Flint around, but it was evident that he wouldn't be able to. But, once again, there was this part of him that was okay with that.

Flint reached out at Heath and pulled his tail with a squeal, which made Beavis panic and pull Flint's hand away in fear that Heath would bite at him, but he didn't. As if he understood that the boy was just a baby, he gnashed his teeth together quietly and rubbed up against Beavis's leg, requesting to be pet again. Awestricken by how nicely all the rats were treating the child, Beavis let go of Flint's hand and let him play with the rat again. They had never been nice to anybody other than him or Butthead before Flint was around. This kid was seriously changing everything he touched.

For a moment, Beavis wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

…

Flint had fallen asleep with a full stomach sometime around nine, which was only an hour before Butthead got off work. Kissing the child goodnight, Beavis went to his own room and laid under the covers, hugging them close. Maybe Butthead was right. Maybe they wouldn't be able to keep Flint, since he took a lot of money to take care of and was distancing him and the brunet all the while.

However, Butthead was gonna have to get over it, he decided. They both were orphans when they were little, so they knew the pain of having to live at an orphanage, which almost all reeked of mothballs and cabbage to him. Flint would be alright in his care. He decided to just let it go about Butthead, because if he wasn't already attached now, he probably wouldn't ever be. Beavis could raise him by himself.

His thoughts had tired him out since he did the most thinking that day than he ever did in his life, so he just about passed out after laying down. Thinking sucked.

…

His mind was groggy when he woke up about an hour later. Even then, he didn't fully wake up; he was half-asleep and his eyelids were struggling to stay open with blurry vision. It also wasn't Flint's crying that woke him up, either, it was the feeling of being watched. Just barely could he make out a figure clad in red standing in the doorway, staring at him. Beavis lifted his head, but only slightly.

"What…?" He slurred, his voice soft and crackly. Whomever was standing in the doorway hadn't realized he was awake and rushed away. At first, Beavis brushed it off, but then was shot wide awake by a rush of adrenaline when he realized that the person could've just stole Flint.

He raced throughout the hallways, making note of things. Flint was still in his room, which was good because that meant he hadn't been taken (and in the spur of the moment, Beavis shut the child's door so he'd be protected), Butthead's door was closed and all the lights were off downstairs, which meant Butthead wasn't home yet, and everything in the basement was still in place. If nobody was in the house, then what was that he saw?

He threw himself back into bed and half-assed covering himself back up. He could've saw a ghost, but he lived in that house almost his entire life and he had never seen that before. If it was a robber, they didn't take anything important that he knew of. No, it couldn't have been a robber, because none of the rats went crazy and/or came and got him. Honey was sound asleep, curled up on top of a dirty shirt laying on Beavis's floor. Suddenly, one of the voices that resided in his head broke away from the quiet constant whispering it did with the other voices and spoke: _Why are you acting like a little bitch? It was probably just your mind making stuff up. After all, you _are _diagnosed…_

_That's some crazy shit, _thought Beavis as he closed his eyes again. _G*ddamn schizophrenia. _

Since he was exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately. For a few moments, the house was full of silence.

After the few moments of quiet were over, door hinges slowly creaked.

…

Beavis had barely noticed when Flint began to cry that night, but, just like always, the child shut himself up in a minute. The blond was at that one point that all humans get at sometimes that says, "You know what, fuck it." and he laid back down again, praying to God that that was the last time he'd wake up that night. It was.


	4. Of Course It Does

He had slept in completely the next morning, shocked when he clicked on the news and read that the time in the banner on the bottom of the screen read 11:23.

Beavis wasn't completely sure, but he was almost positive that was kinda late – for him, at least. He checked on Flint on his way downstairs, only to find that he was still sound asleep. It was beginning to confuse Beavis, since this one lady who was shopping at the MaxiMart while he was searching for things for Flint had told him to prepare for sleepless nights because of the crying, and also that the child would sleep staggeringly at times. Flint was crying surprisingly little and slept like a bab—wow, I have no idea where I was going with that. Anyway.

Butthead had already left for school – as a matter of fact, he had left over four hours ago – leaving Beavis all alone. He never really liked being far away from the tall brunet. Even though the quiet was a bit nice, he felt extremely empty for some reason. He felt like he only had one leg, one arm, one ear, one eye…

In other words, he felt like he was missing his other half.

He shivered and went into the kitchen, taking the few dishes and cups that were sitting on the counter and rinsing them off in an attempt to get his mind on other things. Behind him, Beavis heard soft crunching noises. He turned around and laughed in an "I-told-you-so" sort of way at rats Harper and Harriet, who were trying to eat the tortilla chips they were so against the night before. They wanted to be quiet about it because they knew their master would make fun of them for it, which they failed at and indeed got made fun of. Harriet put a whole chip in her mouth while Harper hissed at Beavis, and they both scurried up the stairs.

Eventually, Flint began to cry, and Beavis already had a bottle ready for him. _Fuck yeah, _he thought to himself, _I'm getting the hang of this, aren't I? _A voice in his head answered the rhetorical question and the blond grew greatly disturbed and sharpened his focus on feeding Flint.

As he sat on top of an old chair sitting in that spare room, he remembered he was supposed to clean it. Since he dropped out of high school to take care of the baby, he had all the spare time in the world now—just as long as he could keep Flint content. He fed the child for a little while longer until he refused to suck on the bottle anymore, and stood up, immediately sitting back down after remembering that lady said you were supposed to pat the kid's back every time you fed him. He hadn't done that the past couple of times because he forgot about it, but nothing seemed to happen when he didn't do it. He might as well do it now.

Awkwardly patting Flint's back, he sat there, not sure when he was supposed to stop doing so. He looked around the room while the child's back made tiny thumping sounds. Beavis began to grow bored and was just about to stop when Flint threw up all over his shoulder.

He sat there, a little stunned for a few seconds. Normal people would freak out and set the kid down to clean themselves up (or be smart enough to use a burpcloth), but Beavis didn't really mind. After all, he had puke in his hair one time. Specifically, Butthead's puke. And the kid's was only liquid stuff, so it wasn't bad at all.

Flint made a noise and put his hand up on his mother's face, smiling at him with the stubby little gums he had. Beavis reached up to touch the child's wrist, smiled back, and lifted him up to set him down in that dusty comforter chair. He frowned when Flint didn't sit upright and instead fell over with a little "oof!" sound. He didn't cry, however, but he just kinda laid there like a rag doll.

Doing an instantaneous scan around the room with his eyes, the blond found a couple pillows and that old blanket of his he had brought out the night Flint was doorstepped. Beavis sat Flint up again, quickly placed the pillows next to the baby, and covered him up with the blanket. He then called for Honey, who waddled in about a minute with her whiskers twitching in curiosity. He scooped the rat up and automatically placed her on his left shoulder, but then whisked her to the other one as Flint's puke was dripping down the front of his shirt and was a few inches from getting on Honey's gray coat.

He placed her down next to the baby, who lit up at the sight of her. "Keep an eye on him, okay?" Beavis ruffled behind the giant rodent's ears, who gnashed her teeth happily. Beavis then left the room to change his shirt. Upon walking into his room, he realized that it was actually a huge fucking mess. Plates and empty chip bags and millions of dirty tissues (…heh heh heh) were all over the floor and dressers, not to mention clothes from at least two months ago were also everywhere. The blond cringed as he tried to step around the mess to get to his dresser, which should have at least a couple shirts in there he could wear.

When he stepped next to a chip bag, a blur of gray shot out of it and scurried under Beavis's bed. Even though he caught only a glimpse, the blond recognized the rat as Harvey. Harvey loved to eat and it wasn't uncommon for him to dig through the trash to find food scraps. After digging through the myriad of random items that were in Beavis's dresser, he managed to find an old Megadeth t-shirt that he'd be able to wear. Careful not to get any of Flint's puke in his hair, he took his shirt on and tossed it on the floor. He was blinded by black fabric for a couple of seconds as he tried to get his hair plus giant head through the neck hole, but when he eventually got his head through, he was greeted by the sight of Harvey getting his snout awfully close to the vomit.

"Oh my God, no, don't eat that!" Beavis snapped at the rat, who sniffed around anyway. The blond scooped his fingers halfway under the thing's belly and tossed it a couple feet away in a manner that a normal person would say was rough, but the rat wasn't fazed by it and backed toward the door slowly, his eyes on Beavis, who lifted a finger. "Go. Go lay down. Leave." Harvey hissed at his master but obeyed and left the room.

The blond looked back down at the puke shirt and crinkled his nose. While he was at it, he probably should gather all the clothes and take them downstairs to the laundry room.

Even though he had only started being, uh… "girly" when Flint came into the picture, Beavis had always done the womanish jobs around the house, such as laundry, doing the dishes, making dinner (which really was only s'mores minus the chocolate), etc. Butthead did nothing, like most women claimed their husbands did. Beavis actually felt a little empathy for all those chicks who complained about their men. He understood. _He knew the feels._

He returned to Flint's room to make sure he was okay and smiled at the baby, who was leaning against Honey with a hand on her fur, half asleep. His tiny little head bobbed as slumber was trying to pull him under. However, it would probably really hurt his neck if he fell asleep like that. Beavis laid Flint down in his crib and nodded at Honey, who gnashed her teeth and jumped out of the chair, shuffling out of the room.

Beavis grabbed a laundry basket that was sitting in the far corner of the room (which he had to climb a mountain of junk to get to) and started going around to all the rooms to get the dirty clothes. After gathering all of them in his room he went into Butthead's, which was much cleaner than his but was still messy nonetheless.

While crawling around and getting all of Butthead's stuff, he noticed gray fabric hidden under his bed. Pinching his eyebrows and tossing the clothes he had into the basket, Beavis reached under, pulling the thing out. Sure enough, it was Butthead's favorite AC/DC shirt.

It was also the shirt that he claimed to be covered in rat piss.

Hesitantly, the blond put his nose to the chest of the shirt, smelling it. He was extremely confused when it didn't smell like piss at all—in fact, it smelled like Butthead, which smelled sweet yet like sulfur and fire. A pang hit his chest suddenly that turned into an ache. He didn't like not having the brunet next to him to make fun of things or to joke with or just to appreciate, which he did often that Butthead never noticed. When the brunet wasn't paying attention, Beavis stared right at his face, taking in his squinty eyes that were actually really happy, his perfectly shaped eyebrows, and his lips (of which, Beavis noticed, that the top lip was much smaller than the bottom lip) that looked extremely soft. He took note of all of that, as well as the smell that was embedded in the fibers of the shirt he was currently holding.

He had to hurry up and whip the shirt in the basket or else he'd start to grow flustered from missing the brunet so bad. It still had him puzzled as to why Butthead had lied about the shirt, though. Maybe he'd ask him why later.

His heart fluttered at the idea that he would get to see him later, even though he saw him every day. Some feeling he hadn't realized existed rose in his chest and his face burned red, and Beavis shook his head, trying to get his friend off his mind. But he just wouldn't leave, no matter how hard he tried to think about other things. He hadn't realized that he was still picking up clothes in the midst of his thinking, though, and all he had left to pick up was Butthead's Burger World uniform. He crinkled his nose at how bright red the shirts they had to wear were and tossed it into the basket. What was Burger World trying to do, blind people?

The next hour and a half was extremely boring. Beavis took the basket downstairs and used their old, tattered washing machine to load way more clothes than there should've been in at one time and stuffed the wet articles that were all stuck together in the dryer. Once all that was done, he decided he'd fold all that stuff another time and wandered back to Flint's room, where he was still sound asleep. Now all Beavis had to do was clean this room and he'd be good.

That wasn't near as boring as the laundry was, because throughout the whole two hours it took, he'd find random stuff he forgot about and marvel at it for a couple minutes. There were a couple of other things that he'd discovered that would be useful for Flint's room, such as that dresser and comforter chair, as well as some baby stuff that was buried for years that Beavis assumed was either his or Butthead's. He also uncovered where all the rats slept at night save for a few of them, which was in a corner by the wall heater on top of an old white sheet. About seven of them were laying on top of it when he picked up a cloth that was hiding them. Beavis decided that he'd leave the sheet there and prop the cloth up with something so they had a place to sleep and hide if they wanted. Anything else that he found that wasn't very useful he carried to the basement. Out of sight, out of mind.

By the time he was done, Flint was still asleep upstairs and Baywatch would've been on. Deciding that he'd enjoy himself for a little while, Beavis sat down on the couch and turned it on, his grunt-type laugh escaping his lips at every shot of a butt or wet white t-shirt.

He wasn't by himself for long, though, because Butthead came through the front door about a half hour later.

Beavis's heart froze for a couple of seconds. Not only was he excited to see him, but that weird feeling arose again when he took note that Butthead was soaked, his chestnut hair not slicked back but instead hanging in his face, water from his bangs rolling down his cheeks. His clothes clung tightly to his skin.

"Hi." Beavis finally said. He wasn't exactly able to say much else.

"Hi." Butthead echoed, taking his shoes off and opening the closet next to the front door to throw them in there. It was evident he wasn't gonna say much else. Strangely enough, he wasn't laughing. Beavis tapped his fingers against his thighs awkwardly, desperately trying to think of a conversation starter.

"Did it rain?" The blond squeaked, adding his laugh at the end in an attempt to sound like he wasn't totally dumbstruck by his friend's appearance.

Butthead did nothing but stop what he was doing, stare at Beavis with a blank expression, then reach behind him and pull the door open a little more, revealing a very gray sky that was pouring rain, with an added lightning strike and boom of thunder. Beavis became flustered, feeling very stupid, and looked at his feet.

"Oh." He said, laughing. He was just about to ask Butthead if he wanted to watch Baywatch but the brunet spoke right when he opened his mouth.

"So, last night I asked the manager for a raise." The brunet closed the front door and the closet door, walking over to the couch and sitting down. The fact that he was soaking wet didn't matter. Beavis was surprised that Butthead would've asked, since the blond never thought out loud, so there was no way he could've known that's what he wanted to do.

"What? Why?" Beavis pressed.

Butthead didn't answer for a minute, swallowing (the way his Adam's apple moved intensified the feeling Beavis was getting) and rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, um," the brunet began, swallowing again and returning his hand to his lap, "Because I knew you'd need the money for the kid, and you had to quit and stuff." The color flushed from Butthead's face and he pretended to have interest in the rain outside by looking out the window. "He understood. He wanted to tell me that, even though the situation you're in is really weird, 'he wishes you the best of luck with the kid and that you're probably gonna fuck it up big time'."

Beavis was _extremely _surprised and impressed with the brunet, not only for asking in the first place for Flint, but that the baby even crossed his mind at all when he wasn't at home. That feeling got even worse, and Beavis could not figure out what it was.

Was he finding his friend… hot?

The blond bit his bottom lip. Hot? Hot for being wet and hot for smelling like soap and sulfur at the same time and hot for caring about a small child? What the fuck kind of a person was Beavis turning into? Somebody who got boners over a guy who cared about babies?

Yes. Yes. _Yes. He was._

Thankfully, he had an excuse for it should Butthead ask because Baywatch was on. He just couldn't get over the fact that Butthead had thought about him and Flint. He actually felt kinda flattered.

"Did he really word it like that?" Blondie smirked, crossing his arms. Butthead looked back at him and gave him this small little smile, which was extremely rare.

"No, he worded it like a smart person. I don't understand smart people."

They both laughed at that, looking at each other with these huge smiles on their faces, and once their laughter had died out they were still looking at each other.

He wasn't too sure, but Beavis thought that Butthead might've even been interested in him too.

…

Beavis had his head under his pillow when Flint cried in the middle of the night this time. Blowing out a groan, he got out of bed and walked toward the door. He immediately felt remorse for groaning, since he _did _decide to take care of Flint, who might've been a handful but was also an angel. He wasn't being a very good mom.

He twisted the doorknob and walked into the hallway, which is when Flint silenced himself. Beavis's eyebrows scrunched together in suspicion. Why was Flint only crying a little every night? Normal babies would cry a million times. He finally decided he was going to see what it was after it happening every evening. What was wrong? Nervous at all the things that it could be, he inched closer to the baby's room, the floorboards creaking quietly under him. Finally outside the doorway, he walked under the frame, halting to a stop. A huge smile slowly spread across his face from ear to ear.

Butthead was sitting in front of the crib, his back to the door. He was hunched over so his face could be close to Flint's and was gently stroking the baby's head to calm him. Flint had his tiny, chubby hand on Butthead's face, smiling up at him. Two rats – whom Beavis recognized as Harold and Hugo – were on both sides of Butthead, their noses close to the child. Hugo was Butthead's favorite and he knew it, so of course he was nuzzled against Butthead's thigh.

"Hello, baby," Butthead's deep voice quietly cooed, which was completely unlike him. The only time the blond had ever heard that phrase was when Butthead was trying to woo a girl but wound up with a face full of fist. Beavis bit his bottom lip and raised his arms, pressing his palms against the doorframe. There was also a thing in his pants that was threatening to form, yet he tried to fight it. Flint made noises, looking over the brunet with the big gray eyes that he had, curiosity bursting out of every pore of his body. "What? What did you say?" Butthead played along, tilting his head down to 'hear' Flint better. But when he turned his head to the side, he saw Beavis's figure out of his peripheral vision, and snapped his neck aside, looking behind him. He turned the brightest shade of red that Beavis had ever seen and turned his head back around, cradling Flint closely and nervously.

Fuck. Beavis now had a boner. G*ddammit.

"Uh huh." Beavis grinned, walking over to his friend (trying to conceal the tent pitched in his pants), sitting next to him. His eyebrow was raised as if to say "I told you so," and Butthead looked away, putting his hand to his face.

"You know, I could cook an egg on your cheek right now." Beavis noted, pressing a finger on Butthead's skin. Flint laughed at the sight of his mother, reaching for him, but all Beavis did was give him his index finger. He wanted to talk to the brunet about something first before Flint was going to be held. "Was it you? Was it you all these nights that calmed him down?" Beavis asked, leaning forward so he could see Butthead's full face. His brown eyes were watery – not out of sadness, but out of embarrassment. He wasn't going to cry at all, he just didn't like that he was caught.

"I hope you don't mind," Butthead began, flicking his eyes over to Beavis, "But I've been referring to myself as 'Daddy'."

"Why would I mind?" Beavis smiled, nonchalantly wrapping his arms around Butthead's free one, "You're Flint's dad. So what?"

"Because you call yourself his mom." He turned beet red again and put his hand to his face yet again, but Beavis grabbed it and held it in his. He wanted to throw up. But he had given things a long thought that evening and realized that the strange feeling he had in his chest was "love". All he needed to do was express it.

"I think it's sweet of you." Beavis nuzzled up to the side of the brunet, intertwining the fingers on his free hand with Butthead's. Butthead just stared with strawberry skin, frozen in embarrassment or love or something else; Beavis couldn't tell.

"You do?" Butthead smiled nervously and shyly, clearly extremely embarrassed and wanting to be anyplace else but where he was. Beavis just nodded with a coy grin that he didn't like the looks of at all, so he quickly moved his gaze to Flint, who was falling asleep in his arms.

"He looks like us." Beavis finally said. It was out of the blue and kind of confused Butthead, so he looked over at him with a crooked eyebrow.

"Huh? He looks like you more." He twisted his index finger in one of Flint's brown curls, which would've matched Beavis's if they were just a little puffier. "He has your hair and your eyebrows," he found himself shifting a little, leaning closer to the child to study his features better, "His eyes are really big, his cheeks are really defined but at the same time are gorgeous, the bridge of his nose is—"

"—Are you saying that you see all of those things in me? Thanks for the compliments," Beavis laughed, leading Butthead to turn red again and hang his hair in his face to hide the color that rushed to his cheeks. Beavis took it and tucked it behind Butthead's ear. His heart was beating with happiness that Butthead took note of his features, too. He must've stared at him when he wasn't looking.

"What I meant by 'us' was that he looks like what our baby would look like if we had one."

"Like, you mean if you got pregnant and stuff and had a baby?"

"Yeah, exactly, only you were the dad and there were features from both of us."

Butthead forced his muscles to loosen themselves after tensing when Beavis's hand rubbed his arm strangely. He wished the bunglick would give him space, but at the same time, the foreign feeling he was getting was comforting with each touch he received. His heart thumped so hard against his chest he was surprised Beavis couldn't hear it. It practically broke through his ribs when Beavis placed his other hand on Butthead's knee.

He anxiously spit up his next sentence when Beavis's one hand inched higher up his leg and the other one slid down the neck of his shirt. "What are you doing?" He tried terribly hard to hold back the erection he was getting from the feeling of Beavis's hand caressing his bare chest. Flint slept peacefully all the while in his arms.

"So… If I'm the mom and you're the dad," Beavis began (Butthead could immediately see where this was going and braced himself), "Does that mean we're… together?" It sounded more like a proposal more than a question. Beavis pressed his forehead against Butthead's and let their lips brush. Butthead wanted nothing more to just grip the back of the blond's head, pulling him forward and smashing their lips together and indulge in him, plaguing his entire body with kisses and just all out _loving _him, but his self-control resisted it. You couldn't just go from seeming like you hated somebody (whereas you loved them to pieces but previously wouldn't dare to tell them that) to showing affection, could you…? Was that allowed? He could tell Beavis was enjoying the shit out of teasing him, so he was gonna do the same. No more hiding feelings and shit. It was obvious that the blond was hitting on him.

"I dunno, _Mommy, _does it?" Wow. Sour attempt, asshole; stick to sarcastic remarks next time.

"You tell me, _Daddy._" Fuck. He knew right how to come back. Yet still Beavis kept their lips the smallest distance apart so they were touching but weren't at the same time, as if he were waiting for something.

Of course. It was all a test. To protect himself and Flint, Beavis needed to know if the guy who was going to live as his counterpart/other half truly felt the same way to prevent future heartbreak, environments similar to divorce, and unnecessary angst.

Finally breaking the distance between them, Butthead pressed his lips to Beavis's, who almost immediately opened his mouth a little so both pairs of lips fit together like puzzle pieces. A tiny grunt of surprise escaped from Butthead as his eyes jolted open and looked at the blond, whose eyes were open but were of that of a con artist's, pleased that he got what he wanted. Beavis let out what Butthead guessed was a moan as he leaned forward and reached behind Butthead's neck, deepening the kiss. Butthead desperately tapped into his self-control again to prevent himself from screwing Beavis right there. Oh wait.

He pulled away, much to Beavis's disappointment, whose eyes were still hungry and his face soft, upset and confused. Butthead looked down at his arms and the confusion disappeared in thin air.

Beavis nodded and reached out, receiving the sleeping infant from the brunet. He stood up, bounced the child a couple times in his arms whispering something before placing him inside the crib. Butthead stood up also, taking advantage of Beavis's placement by quickly sliding his arm around the blond's waist, pulling him close. He took note of how his wrist could easily rest on his hip; that wasn't normal for a guy. He fought off the tugging feeling in between his legs again that was triggered by the fact that Beavis had a set of hips, but he couldn't really help it. Maybe Beavis wouldn't notice.

His eyes trailed down the blond's figure accidentally and found himself also resisting the urge to pinch Beavis's ass. It was gorgeous.

He had to just whirl around and walk out of the room to stop himself from aggressively tearing his clothes off. Never until tonight could he tap into those feelings for Beavis but now that they were flowing he couldn't figure out why the hell he hadn't been attracted to him in the first place. He was adorable, with a million freckles and those big blue doe eyes and a cute tiny smile and **_UGH_** love was weird.

Butthead wandered back downstairs into the dark living room, not even bothering to flick on the lights. He had been sleeping in his bed those past couple of days instead of the couch like usual so he could get to Flint before Beavis did. His mind was so cluttered that he didn't even turn the TV on, he just sat on the couch, running a hand through his hair, thinking, _Wow, I was finally caught with Flint. That sucks some mega ass. _He was also thinking about how good it felt making that kind of contact with Beavis. That adorable blond twig knew how to manipulate g*ddammit and he was good at it.

The first night, Butthead had managed to get to Flint before Beavis to cradle him and to get him to stop crying. He slept in his room on purpose so he could get to the child hopefully before Beavis had heard him crying, and it worked. The only thing was that he never slept in his room, so how would he explain that the reason he wanted to sleep there was to take care of the kid? He baited the blond with the lie about the shirt and it worked. He did the exact same thing the next night only didn't use a shirt bait, he just kinda let it go. He would've let it go tonight, too, but he was caught red handed.

Beavis walked through the dark and sat next to Butthead, leaning against him with a hand on his arm. Butthead didn't do anything except look down into the pools of the blond's eyes, which were the color of the sky. His eyes were also huge, surrounded by a ton of pretty little freckles.

"You never answered my question," Beavis nudged him, biting his bottom lip like he always did.

"What? If we were together?" Hesitantly, Butthead took his right hand and put it on top of the blond's, who spread his fingers a little so, once again, they fit together like puzzle pieces.

Beavis nodded and Butthead looked at the ceiling for a second, before reaching under Beavis (who let out a yelp of surprise) and lifting him onto his lap, making the blond face him. Beavis straddled his legs against the brunet's thighs and wrapped his arms around his neck, resting his forehead on the other's again. Wordless, Butthead pressed his lips against his friend's, enjoying the hell out of it when Beavis pressed back. After about ten seconds of just doing that, the blond took his tongue and quickly ran it along the brunet's lower lip, stifling a moan out of him. This only made Beavis harder and made him want more. It was all like a dream – never would he have imagined this very moment would happen and never would he have thought he'd enjoy it this much. He shifted his weight in Butthead's lap and was now closer to the other, wrapping more of his arms around his friend. The brunet mimicked him and did the same, reaching around Beavis and placing one hand on the top of his back and the other on his rear end. Beavis was the one who moaned this time and pressed the tip of his tongue between the seams of lips, just about begging for the older one to open his mouth more so they could deepen the kiss.

Butthead got the idea and separated his lips a little more so the blond could get inside. Shivers were sent down his back as Beavis's tongue slipped between his own tongue and teeth, the warm muscle running on the roof of his mouth. He was really enjoying the entire thing and would be willing to bet money that no chick in the world could ever be pleasuring him as much as Beavis had been just then. The foreign feeling he was getting was thrilling and he wanted more of it. He figured it was safe to say that the blond was now his lover and moved one of his hands to the back of Beavis's head, slipping his tongue on top of his, mimicking what the other was doing.

It only took a minute for the both of them to get the hang of what they were doing and the kiss grew harder and faster, the wet, loud noises of their tongues making each other's erections even worse. It finally reached a point where they both stopped, separating their lips but keeping their tongues out their mouths, a trail of saliva connecting both of them. When the trail broke, Beavis licked his lips and rested his head against the brunet's shoulder. Butthead responded to the movement by leaning his head against the blond's and holding him, both of them just sitting there quietly.

Beavis's fingers ran through the hair on the back of the brunet's head and Butthead's hands rested on the blond's back. Neither of them were too sure of what to say, being as they practically hated one another not even a day ago, ripping at the other yelling harsh words in the middle of a school hallway, trying to pull each other's hair out while throwing punches at one another. Bonus points because one was holding a baby.

"Ummm…" Butthead mumbled, sheepishly moving his head away from Beavis and looking out the window.

"I like how your tongue tastes." Beavis mentioned, getting the brunet's attention again. He admired the milky brown color of his irises and how pretty they looked in the dark.

"I, um, like yours too," Butthead responded, smiling sheepishly at Beavis with his braces glinting off the moonlight that just barely showed in through the windows. Beavis smiled back, a blush creeping on his face. They both were huge idiots and had just made out and were completely in love with each other, no doubt.

The blond reached out and hugged the other (who, of course, returned it, since he wasn't too sure what you were supposed to do with lovers and stuff because he never had one, so he figured the best thing to do was whatever Beavis did). He then stood up and stretched.

"I'm gonna go to bed," he announced, giving a tiny smile at the brunet, "Night."

"Wait!" Butthead shot up and stood right in front of Beavis, who was confused. "Can I come with you? Like, can I, uh… sleep with you and stuff?" Beavis could tell the brunet was extremely embarrassed at the question, so he tried not to make a huge deal out of it. He smiled and put a hand on Butthead's arm.

"Of course you can." He purred, tugging on his boyfriend's arm to get him to go upstairs. The two of them got into Beavis's bed (both shirtless, awkwardly trying to lie to each other by saying they slept shirtless every day but they knew damn well they slept with shirts on and just wanted to feel skin touching skin), and Beavis situated himself in front of Butthead, who rested his left arm around Beavis's middle. The blond reached with his right hand and held the brunet's in his like he always did, snuggling his back to the front of him. Both of them laid there, holding each other, enjoying the moment. Right when Butthead was about to drift off, Beavis spoke up.

"Does this mean you'll help me raise Flint?" he asked. Even though the blond couldn't see it because he wasn't facing him, Butthead smiled at him, hugging him even closer.

"Of course it does, you butthole."


	5. Epilogue: Peanut Butter

**Epilogue**

**…**

Reruns of the same two Jersey Shore episodes from seven years ago still had yet to bore Beavis and Butthead, who sat on their couch like they had since the beginning of forever. The blond leant into the other, whose arm was draped over his shoulders. A couple years ago, it was awkward when they made any kind of contact, in a relationship or not. But now they were completely comfortable with each other, warmed up to the fact that for the majority of their teenage years they were chasing after the wrong gender. Neither of them would've ever guessed that they'd be where they were then. The two were already _waaaaaaay _past the point of having sex for the first time. Honestly, they were pretty active, which was good for them, because it sure beat spending a night with your hand like most couples dissolved to doing at a certain point. (Thankfully, the both of them were giant horndogs, so there was no problem like that at all.) They weren't married since it was illegal, but they might as well have been because of how they acted. Their days were full of random pecks on the cheek, sudden strong embraces, and cheesy pick-up lines that if you had met them for the first time you would've thought they'd be married. Both were happy.

It was a hot June evening, but it didn't refrain them from holding each other close. None of them were saying anything nor doing anything, they just sat there, absorbed into one of their favorite TV shows. It cut to a commercial about condoms and Butthead finally spoke.

"You know? I really hate Deena."

"Yeah, she's the worst out of all of them. Every time she comes on screen I just wanna turn the TV off and go and do productive things."

There were a couple of seconds of silence before they both burst into simultaneous laughter. Butthead hugged his blond close, whose face was squished against his chest, but he didn't mind. Beavis took in the familiar smell of his lover that he loved so much, but became confused when the brunet suddenly stopped laughing. He removed his head from his chest and looked up at Butthead, who was staring at the doorway to the kitchen. The blond turned his head to look in that direction.

A somewhat tall yet short little boy stood under the frame, his skin tan and freckly due to always being outside. His brown curls were also highlighted with blond from being under the sun as well, the rays bleaching his hair. Overall, he was a very handsome and polite boy who was very easy to be proud of. The young thing had tearstains on his cheeks, his left hand nervously gripping the seams of his shorts, and his right hand jammed in a jar of peanut butter.

"Please help me," Flint pleaded.

…

"Yes, but why did you think it was a _good idea _to stick your whole hand in a thing of peanut butter?"

Flint wasn't able to answer his mother because he was too busy hyperventilating through tears, wiping at his eyes with his free hand while his dad messed around with the hand that was stuck in the jar.

"Hey, settle down, we're not mad." Beavis said, running his index finger under one of the child's eyes to rid of a tear. Flint sniffled, calming down a little.

"You're not?"

"No," Butthead snickered, smiling at the kid, "I actually thought I'd be dealing with this because your Mom got _his_ hand stuck in a jar, not you." This made Flint laugh, lifting his spirits up and getting him to stop crying. Butthead laughed too while Beavis jokingly nudged his boyfriend to instigate Flint into laughing more. Flint was extremely protective of the blond, but half the time, it was Butthead who was able to calm him down faster.

"So, why did you put your hand in the jar?" Beavis asked, looking over at the kid's hand. It looked like it hurt; the area of his wrist that was around the entrance of the jar was very irritated and red. All of the rats were also surrounded closely around Flint. Except Honey. Beavis always thought the old rat would be better as a honey badger because she never cared about anything. Honey don't care. Honey don't give a shit.

"I wanted to feed the rats," Flint explained, his left hand going up to his hair and insecurely twisting in one of his curls. "They like to lick the peanut butter off my hand." A small little smile spread across the child's face and he let out a few giggles. "It tickles, too!" Beavis's face turned a little sour.

"You say that like you've done that before." He noted, disgust bubbling in his stomach. He wasn't mad at Flint – he would never lie and say he wasn't to the kid when he actually was – he just found it appalling that the kid stuck his hand in peanut butter, let rats lick his hand, and then put his hand back in the jar, rat saliva tainting the whole thing. Flint's face softened and he lightly kicked his foot back and forth, but he still made eye contact with his mom.

"I did…" Flint admitted, his face turning red, "A couple of times, with different jars of peanut butter. I like to feed them because it makes them happy. They like peanut butter. Especially Harvey." Harvey, at the mention of his name, moved his tail happily, thinking he was gonna get food. He was huge because he was such a glutton.

"Flint, how long have you fed the rats like that?"

The child looked down at the rats at his feet. "Ummm… I dunno, since around Halloween."

Beavis let out a cough of disgust and put his hand to his mouth, shaking his head at his son. "Oh my god, Flint, do you realize how many sandwiches we made with that?"

Flint began to cry again, upset at having disappointed his mom. "I'm sorry, Mommy, I'm really sorry!" And then, very similar to how Beavis used to get flustered when he was little, the boy began to panic, crying harder. "You said you weren't mad! _You said you weren't mad_!"

Butthead stopped messing with the jar on Flint's hand to place a hand on his shoulder. "Flint, stop, he isn't, it's just kinda really sick that you repeatedly stuck your dirty hand in a jar of peanut butter that we all use. Stop crying." Flint nodded, his breaths staggered. He had a tendency to cry over spilt milk, but then again, didn't all kids, to a tee?

The brunet gripped the child's wrist with one hand and grabbed the jar with the other. "Okay, listen. I'm gonna start pulling on the jar, so it's gonna hurt." He pulled back a little on the peanut butter but not enough to actually do anything. Flint swallowed, hugging his middle with his free arm. "Are you ready?" Butthead asked, and when the child nodded, he tightened his hold on his wrist and tugged on the jar, Flint letting out a yelp of pain.

"_Owwwwww! Daddy, stop! Daddy, it hurts, please stop!_" Flint's tiny little fingers anxiously tried to pry his father's hands off the jar, but he wasn't strong enough. Butthead's heart sank at the sound of Flint crying in pain, though, so he let go anyway.

"Flint, it was so close to coming off."

"It hurt," the boy sniffled, rubbing his wrist. The two adults then took note that the kid was completely covered in peanut butter. It was all over his face, his arms, his hands… he must've tried getting it off himself and accidentally got it all over the place. Beavis looked at the child with sadness in his eyes. He HATED seeing the baby upset. Hated it.

"Come here." The blond said, holding out his arms. Flint walked over and hugged his mom, resting his chin on Beavis's shoulder. His left hand was on the blond's face (which he had done ever since he was a baby; you could tell he loved you if he put his hand on your face) and the jar hand dangling limply next to his side. Beavis hugged the child while Butthead moved behind him, grabbing the stuck hand again, positioning his grip in the same places it was in before.

"I'm gonna pull again, alright? If you just deal with the pain for a couple of seconds your hand'll get free." He told the child, who gave another nod and pressed himself harder into the blond's chest, bracing himself. Butthead began to pull on the jar and Flint let out another yelp of pain and began to squirm. Beavis hugged the child so tightly that if he squeezed him any harder the boy's pretty gray eyes would pop out of his head.

"_Daddy, please! Stooooooooop, it hurts! Let go of the jar! Daddy!_" Despite Flint's begging pleas, Butthead tried to ignore them and pulled even harder on the jar, which was getting closer to the middle of Flint's swollen hand. If it wasn't swollen from irritation it already would've been out of the jar. The child became very afraid that his dad 'couldn't hear him' and panicked again. "_Daddy, why aren't you letting go of the jar?!_"

"Flint, it's almost off! Wait a second!" Butthead yelled over the child's screams. Beavis just sat there, squeezing the tiny brunet to death, not able to take the boy's cries of hurt. Thankfully, about five seconds after, his tiny little hand popped out of the jar, Butthead falling backwards a little from the sudden force brought onto him. He expected Flint to be happy his hand was no longer sitting in a warm thing of peanut butter, but instead, he screamed and grabbed his hand, crying even harder.

"What?" Beavis pulled the kid away from him and took his wrist, which was also very swollen. When the jar actually broke away, the tiny grooves on the rim for the lid to screw onto had scraped up all of his knuckles really bad. His thumb was the worst, a giant patch of red that was beginning to bleed quickly resting farther up his thumb, too. Beavis honestly thought it was a bad wound that needed to be treated right away, but one rule of parenting was never to get scared of an injury because then you'd just scare the child.

"Hey, shh…" Beavis whispered, caressing the boy's forehead with his thumb. Butthead had taken his shirt off and wrapped it around Flint's peanut-butter-covered hand in an attempt to pressurize the wound. Meanwhile, rats were frantically racing over to the jar, sticking their noses in. The child slowed his crying, paying more attention to the rats attacking each other to get to the peanut butter than he was his injury. Butthead wiped a little bit of peanut butter off the kid's cheek with his thumb and popped it in his mouth.

"You should really get him cleaned up." He inferred, wiping more peanut butter off Flint, only this time, he rubbed it all over Beavis's cheek. The blond didn't mind, though. He didn't even acknowledge it.

"Yup." Beavis tugged on the child's arm to get his attention and stood up. "Come on. You're gonna get in the shower."

"What? Why?" Flint protested, crossing his arms, the shirt around his hand unraveling itself a little. Beavis just kinda stared at the kid for a couple seconds before the boy looked at his arms and smeared his good hand across his face. When he pulled it away and looked at his palm, a huge smile spread across his face and he looked up at his mom.

"Oh." And with that, he started to giggle, hugging himself happily. That was the mood he was in most of the time – happy and everything's sunshine and life is beautiful – but when he wasn't, he was really stubborn and cocky, much like his dad. Speaking of…

Flint ran over to Butthead and threw himself into him, wrapping his arms around the brunet's chest. "Thank you for getting the thingy off!" he squealed.

"No problem, buddy," Butthead laughed. Flint kissed his dad's cheek before bouncing up and running over to Beavis.

"Can I have a bath?"

"No, you don't get clean with those."

"_Pleeeeeeease?_"

"…fine. Let's go."

Flint let out a cheer of victory and raced up the stairs (on all fours, of course, with a complete disregard of the scrapes on his one hand). Beavis just shook his head with a tiny little smirk and turned back at Butthead, who had stood up already. The brunet let out a laugh and shooed the rats away from the jar with his foot.

"Sometimes I worry about him." Butthead admitted, picking up the peanut butter and tossing it in the trash.

"We were the same way. Hell, we were the same way for years after." The blond laughed, scooping up Harper and scratching behind her ears. When the rat squirmed in his hand, he set her back down and followed Flint up the stairs. Butthead just watched.

For a dude, Beavis was gorgeous.

…

Flint sat leant against his mother with his head pressed against his arm, sound asleep. He was placed right between his parents on the couch, apparently finding Robocop movies so boring that he'd rather sleep than watch them. His right hand was wrapped with bandages.

"I'm gonna hate it when he's old enough to realize that we're not his real parents." Beavis softly said, stroking Flint's head.

"By then, I think he'd be old enough to not care. Like, not care that we're not his real parents because we're not the ones who abandoned him."

Beavis shrugged, clearly not wanting to think of that day. There was a little bit of silence before Butthead leant extremely close to the child, which confused the blond greatly. The brunet sat back where he was before, watching the TV. His expression was blank.

"He still smells like peanut butter."

…

**That now draws the story to a close. As I write this, it's only been up for about three days and already has a million views. I'd really appreciate it if you guys would please review; I love reviews! **

**Thanks so much for reading and enjoy surfing the rest of FanFiction!**


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